entire resignation.

And so they walked to the creek and Rodriguez greeted the boatman,
whose name was Perez; and they entered the boat and he rowed them down
to Caspe. And, in the house of Perez, Rodriguez slept that night in a
large dim room, untidy with diverse wares: they slept on heaps of
things that pertained to the river and fishing. Yet it was late before
Rodriguez slept, for in sight of his mind came glimpses at last of the
end of his journey; and, when he slept at last, he saw the Pyrenees.
Through the long night their mighty heads rejected him, staring
immeasurably beyond him in silence, and then in happier dreams they
beckoned him for a moment. Till at last a bird that had entered the
city of Caspe sang clear and it was dawn. With that first light
Rodriguez arose and awoke Morano. Together they left that long haven of
lumber and found Perez already stirring. They ate hastily and all went
down to the boat, the unknown that waits at the end of all strange
journeys quickening their steps as they went through the early light.

Perez rowed first and the others took their turns and so they went all
the morning down the broad flood of the Ebro, and came in the afternoon
to its meeting place with the Segre. And there they landed and
stretched their limbs on shore and lit a fire and feasted, before they
faced the current that would be henceforth against them. Then they
rowed on.

When they landed by starlight and unrolled a sheet of canvas that Perez
had put in the boat, and found what a bad time starlight is for
pitching a tent, Rodriguez and Morano had rowed for four hours each and
Perez had rowed for five. They carried no timber in the boat but used
the oars for tent-poles and cut tent-pegs with a small hatchet that
Perez had brought.

They stumbled on rocks, tore the canvas on bushes, lost the same thing
over and over again; in fact they were learning the craft of wandering.
Yet at last their tent was up and a good fire comforting them outside,
and Morano had cooked the food and they had supped and talked, and
after that they slept. And over them sleeping the starlight faded away,
and in the greyness that none of them dreamed was dawn five clear notes
were heard so shrill in the night that Rodriguez half waking wondered
what bird of the darkness called, and learned from the answering chorus
that it was day.

He woke Morano who rose in that chilly hour and, striking sparks among
last night's embers, soon ha